


Darkness Falling

by betsy_malfoy



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Curufinwe being a total dick, F/M, Healing Sex, Morgoth has a daughter, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Discovery, Strong Female Characters, Toxic Relationships, it started as silly and soapy but Feanorians made it dark, well she doesn't like Curufinwe, winter is coming!, young girl meets beautiful elves for the first time and likes them all - don't ask her to choose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betsy_malfoy/pseuds/betsy_malfoy
Summary: Nkechi was born to become the queen at her father's side, but instead she got spirited away by a creature with a face uncannily familiar. She needs to figure this out. Maitimo wants to be healed, Findekano wants his friend and lover back. Tyelkormo wants all his brothers to become their better selves again. A chain of events gives all of them a chance to find what they are looking for.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo, Original Female Character/Multiple relationships
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Birth of Miriel

Once upon a time there was a witchking, the mightiest of his kind. He had a castle to live in, a court to keep him entertained, a people to rule, and enemies as powerful as only a truly great king could have. He had everything but a queen. He sat alone on his iron throne, and there was no one to stand by him and rule with him, and fight his foes, and overshine the jewels in his crown, and the Sun, and the Moon.

So he summoned the fairest of his maidens, and together they gave life to a girl as beautiful as the fire in his forge, as strong as the mountains around his castle, and as talented in the craft as only a child of her father could be. She was the future queen, the one who would share king's many burdens once she grew up. But before she came of age there were many things to see and to learn, and the young princess was always hungry for both.

So, there she was, accompanied by a little court of her own, feasting with them, and laughing, and singing, and drinking the best wine she could find in her father's castle. Twenty maidens were brought in by the witchking years ago, so that they would serve his newborn daughter, and it was not by their free will, but many had changed since that day, and as the princess was getting older, the captive girls became her friends, and loved their mistress as truly and deeply, as if the choice to stay by her side was of their own. And now she wanted all twenty of them to be the happiest in that dark hour, and maybe to put her own heart at rest a little bit, for her father was evil, and his castle was evil, and everything under his roof was bound to come to an evil end, however good and kind it was.

The mother of the young princess was especially skillful at the art of poisoning, and it was her cabinet full of potions and vials, where the princess took the parting gift for her friends.

And so she sang, and she danced, and she laughed despite the darkness in her thoughts and on her heart, and she waited until the last laughter died and the last body grew cold, and only then she hurried back to her bedchamber, opened the tall narrow window and looked into the night. It was full of shadows that only she could see and whispers that only she could understand.

The tower, where the princess lived, overlooked a huge yard busy with the sounds of hammer, and machinery creaking, and steel touching a grinder, and they never went off, and the princess could always hear them, even though the clouds, grey with smoke and dust, were passing by her window. She could smell the whiff of burning coal and bone, even now, with the cold nothern wind being strong and gusty as ever. And there was something else in the air, something that didn't belong to her father, something that wasn't supposed to be there. A voice. It sounded as if it belonged to the night itself, faint but crawling right under your skin.

“Come to me, my beautiful child, break your cage, make a step and spread your wings...”

“Who are you?” the princess whispered. “My cage is broken, but what do you want of me?”

“Come to me, child, let the night become your wings...”

The princess stepped on the windowledge. A shadow rushed towards her, twisted around her waist like a thin icy tendril and pulled. The girl spread her arms and pushed at the walls around her as hard as she could.

“Let go... I don't know you...”

“Don't be silly, child,” the night murmured inside her head. “You've seen me so many times... Whenever you look into that ornate mirror of yours.”

A face appeared in front of the young princess. A face made of dark sky and silver moonlight. A face she knew so well... The girl shrieked. Her hands slipped, and she fell.

The last thing she remembered was a huge black bird catching her in its claws and carrying her away.

*****

It was shortly past dawn when he left his shelter. Last night was rough. The duo of lashing wind and icy rain wasn't an appropriate accompaniment for a journey, so he waited it out under the lowest branches of a huge fir tree. Just enough room for a man and his dog. Dry and warm. Perfect. He quickly brushed his hair and clothes from dead needles and grinned when Huan gave his rich silky coat a long and thorough shake. A few needles stuck to his muzzle and Tyelkormo swept them away with his hand. Huan pushed the hand with his rock-hard forehead asking for a caress and Tyelkormo obliged him for a few moments.

“Did you also hear that?” he asked absentmindedly like he often did when they were alone. He long since stopped expecting a reply, hesitantly leaving the choice when to speak to Huan, but still it was nice to know that the hound understood every single word. “Voices in the wind. They were having an actual conversation. That is new.”

Tyelkormo picked up his bulky backpack and set out in the direction where the lake shore lay. Huan followed him instead of jogging by his side as usual. The floor of the ancient forest was difficult enough to traverse even before yesterday and the stormy night only added to its already legbreaking scape. The elf and his dog were travelling home, when ferocious gusts of wind made them quickly retreat into the woods. Lake Mithrim, usually calm, turned into a roaring hungry beast, and Tyelkormo had no intention to feed it. But now it was safe to come back.

The light was dull, the sky lead grey, the forest different shades of dark greens. Mud squishing under his feet, wet needles sticking to his sturdy boots, hair damp from handfuls of droplets, he came to the edge of the forest spending twice as much time as it took him yesterday to find safety under the fir tree. The shore looked as much of a mess as expected. Broken branches everywhere, tall grass tangled and lying almost flat. A few rocks here and there pulled from the tip of the water by a mindless force. Dirty foam and more branches on tired waves. It will take days for Mithrim to regain its clear glacial looks. Huan gave out a sudden short bark. Tyelkormo glanced at the hound. His frame was tense, his muzzle pointing left, where a dark red dot lay lifelessly at the fragile border between the two elements. Tyelkormo dropped his backpack and dashed without thinking. It occurred to him a moment later that he probably doesn't need to hurry, not after a night like the last one, but he never changed his pace.

A young woman in a crimson dress richly embroidered with gold lay on her side in the far end of a gravelly patch. Cold waves were licking her bare feet, the hem of the long skirt was pulled above her knees showing luminous white skin. Her matt black hair was hanging above her face covering it, and Tyelkormo was thankful for this small mercy. He noticed a few gashes in the back of her dress, unbroken skin showing through them, and slowly rolled her face up. So small, so frail she seemed in comparison with his well-developed powerful body, and yet she was the one who didn't get any shelter at all. She wasn't even wearing a mantle or a cloak. Tyelkormo felt rage rising inside his chest. Was it really her decision to be outside during a storm? He gently brushed hair from her face. The woman had a beautiful bone structure. It was easy to imagine her forehead decorated with a circlet. She looked like someone who lived in a big house with a lot of servants to tend to her every whim, protected by a loving family. How was it possible for a woman like her to end up like a pile of floatsome? Too bad that she was washed up the shore, it will make tracking so much more difficult but Tyelkormo wasn't going to give up. Not now, not ever. “Sniff,” he told Huan. “Find where she came from.” The hound gave him a slightly disapproving look. Huan clearly saw the same implications as he did. Nevertheless, he whiffed her face a couple of times and stepped away pretending to get busy with a vigorous search. Tyelkormo leaned forward and kissed her cool white forehead. “I'll find him. I'll find who did this to you,” he promised, never giving a second thought to the gender of whoever left the young woman to her untimely death.

Her eyelids quevered. Tyelkormo stared. Did he just imagine that? He dropped lower, pressing his ear to the top of her left breast showing in the low cut front of the dress. A moment later he heard a weak but very distinctive beat. And another one.

“Huan!” he called and got up, his hands slightly trembling. “She is alive. She is alive!” The dog came back silently, all written in its golden eyes.

“You could have said something,” noticed Tyelkormo. The hound gave him another Look. “Ok, ok, don't talk if you don't feel like it, but next time give a little bark or something. You are perfectly capable to express yourself when you want me to pet behind your ears, I'm just talking about your priorities here.”

Huan slightly nudged woman's shoulder with his huge paw and shortly barked.

“There is no need to talk about My priorities, they are all in the right place, thank you,” replied Tyelkormo taking off his cloak and gently wrapping it around woman's cold body. “Now fetch me that backpack. Let's get her dry and warm.”

*****

She woke up to familiar silver voices, she thought were forever silent, and it took her a moment to realize that what she actually heard was just the wind lazily rustling the tree tops. She wasn't at home anymore. Her maids were dead, and nothing on Arda could bring them back. Yet she wasn't alone. There were two more creatures near her and a small fire, she could feel the heat coming from it, caressing her face. She was very warm. Something heavy, smelling like a lifetime of fires, and forest camps, and old blood, and some animal, covered her from neck to toes. She opened her eyes and found the animal. A huge dog. The biggest she had ever seen. Grey coat, fiery golden eyes with a touch of awareness. The dog was calmly observing her, its head lying on its paws. She tried to prop herself on her shoulder, and the dog immediately raised its head.

“Hush, Huan,” said a voice belonging to someone she couldn't see yet. “Don't scare her.”

The dog snorted and put its head back.

Then she saw an elf. She knew straight away that he was an elf, even though he was so different from her maids. They resembled stars, he was like the sun, full of a blaze she never knew even existed. And of course he was a male. He was tall, so tall, he had broad shoulders and big yet extremely beautiful hands. She stared at them, and probably he misunderstood it as shyness.

“I'm Tyelkormo,” he said, sitting down next to her. “I found you by the lake.”

He spoke the language she learned from her father. Nobody else understood it, even the maids. Her mother used the Dark speech like the rest of the court. Tyelkormo spoke the tongue that, she knew, belonged to their enemy, a greedy and powerful folk living across the Great Sea. She had never seen any of them before. Why is he so... different?

“What happened to you?” asked Tyelkormo a little too eager.

She saw her clothes lying in a messy heap beside the fire. What happened to her indeed? She slightly frowned.

“I put you into my spare shirt,” he said. “Your dress was wet from being in the lake, it would take hours to get it dry.”

“I don't remember the lake,” she said.

Her smelly cover turned out to be a cloak. Belonging to Tyelkormo, without a doubt. He spent many hours wearing it, and now it was around her shoulders, enveloping her in his scent. Somehow it made her feel a little better.

“What do you remember?”

Not much.

“I was at home... And then something happened. A voice called me from the dark.”

“You were taken against your will,” said Tyelkormo, and his face hardened for a moment. Seeing it was a bit scary but reassuring at the same time.

She thought about the great black bird snatching her in the air.

“Yes. I suppose so.”

“I'll take you to my people,” he said like it was something already decided. “You are safe now.”

Hearing it was a music to her ears.

“Forgive me, I never asked your name.”

“I'm Nkechi,” she said.

A sudden weakness cut her down, but she didn't fall on the ground. Tyelkormo caught her in a gentle embrace, and now her head was resting on his shoulder, his hair the colour of dried grass under her cheek. A small vein pulsing in his neck right in front of her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she muttered.

He must never know who she really was. No. Her heart will break, she'll just break if he looks at her with the same hard angry eyes he had when he thought about the creature that kidnapped her and dumped her at the lake. He must never know.

“Don't be,” he said softly. “You slept through the day, but clearly that wasn't enough. Are you hungry?”

She nodded, even though she had never been in her life.

“I'll roast you some bread,” he said and readjusted the cloak around her, so that it helped to support her body.

She nodded again.

“By the way, I've never heard an Elvish name like yours,” he confessed, rummaging through his huge backpack. Tyelkormo suddenly looked at her and smiled, as if something brilliant came onto his mind. “I would call you Miriel, it sounds like you.”

“A girl who shines,” she repeated slowly and smiled to him, and to this evening beside the small fire. “Yes. I like it.”


	2. Creature that followed her in the dark

She ate a piece of bread that he roasted for her on a twig, and drank a bit of warm water with a hint of wine. Nkechi didn't need sustenance in the same way as carnal creatures like elves. She fed after the sundown, darkness pouring into her every pore, making her strong and full of vigour. But she could eat nevertheless. Just to keep company to someone dear to her. Or to avoid suspicion. Like now.

Night came, and Nkechi felt it with her skin rather than saw it with her eyes. Her eyes were on Tyelkormo. He was going about their modest meal with well-practiced movements of someone who spent a good part of his life outdoors. His grin was reassuring, his frame big but agile. And the way he looked at her... He seemed to really like Nkechi, even if he preferred to call her Miriel. A girl who shines. He saw her that way. Nkechi felt something warm quivering in the bottom of her stomach every time he accidentally brushed her skin with his fingers. Like helping her to readjust the cloak around her shoulders, helping her to hold the cup in her slightly trembling hands or to sweep an unruly lock of hair away from her eyes. Nkechi never realized that she could need an assistance with so many things. The cloak lay on her body like a hot heavy weight and she let it fall, now wearing only Tyelkormo's spare shirt which was too large for her, and the collar slid down her right shoulder. She noticed of course the way his eyes flickered when he saw a sliver of her bare skin. As if he didn't see it all while changing her out of her dress. Nkechi's black wavy hair, now almost dry, were falling all the way to the ground, and she casually moved them all to her naked shoulder, covering whatever the shirt left open. She didn't want to protect herself from his eyes, of course. Tyelkormo was the first one to adore her body in this way, it felt as though he was the first who really noticed her, acknowledged her for what she was worth. Not her father's daughter, not the future queen. Just Nkechi. A beautiful girl he met here in the wilderness. She wanted him to see more.

Yet she didn't want him to be the only one who got things his way. Tyelkormo's broad shouders were covered by a little worn out shirt that fit them perfectly. Nkechi wanted to know if his body is sun kissed like his face and neck, or maybe it's pale like her own skin. Does he look more attractive with his shirt on or off? She stared at his chest, her imagination running wild. He was sitting so close to her, his hand a mere couple of inches from her thigh still half hidden under his cloak. She moved her gaze to his face. He was looking at her intently, his green eyes as if piercing through her every desire. Nkechi felt her lips went dry and licked them without thinking. He gasped, and next moment his lips softly pressed hers. Nkechi felt a little lightheaded. She returned the kiss, leaning into Tyelkormo, until the cloak she was sitting on was left behind, until she sensed his leather breeches with her bare thighs.

His arms were as hard and muscular as she imagined, his touch tentative at first, as if he was afraid to hurt her, but as he was getting more familiar with her body and its needs, his caresses grew more and more confident. He knew now what she liked and he obeyed her every wish. Tyelkormo was lightly biting her lips with every kiss, turning the fire inside her into a blaze. His firm callous hand was stroking her back under her shirt, scratching her skin a little bit, pressing Nkechi into his chest. His second hand cupped her buttock and gently squeezed, making her moan into the kiss. He did it again, this time his fingers a bit closer to her opening, and Nkechi wriggled in his arms. She already forgot that she wanted to see him shirtless, she didn't care anymore about the shade of his skin or its touch, Nkechi needed more of what he was giving her. She didn't notice when he laid her on his cloak, or when he shed his shirt. He managed to unbuckle his breeches still kissing her, his second hand still on her pale skin. He pressed into her, and her body sheathed him easily, as if they were made to fit each other perfectly.

She was still wearing his spare shirt, although he pulled its front almost to her chin, laying her small breasts open to the night air and the last bits of warmth coming from the smoldering ashes. Nkechi didn't feel any of it, her body burning from the inside. Tyelkormo was filling her exactly the right way, stretching her, pushing into her. Rubbing a sensitive spot inside her, she didn't even know existed. The pleasure was getting too intense, Nkechi felt like a leaf caught by a river. It was carrying her closer and closer to the edge, where the water fell, and then Tyelkormo pushed her right over it.

Nkechi opened her eyes and saw darkness. It wasn't like deep blackness of the night sky peppered with stars. Neither it resembled a dark room after all the lights went off. This one was absolute. She had seen it before, she knew its danger, its perpetual hunger. First it ate the light, and with no light there is no life, so it killed every living being captured into its tenets. The witchking, Nkechi's father, was the only creature who could push it back. Darkness listened to him. But the king wasn't here. Nkechi was. Helpless under her dying lover, waiting for her turn to be taken. How could that happen? Why?

“You waste no time, my child,” said the voice, the same voice who was whispering to her for weeks, months in the end. The one who urged Nkechi to break her cage.

“Father, is it you?” What if all of this was a test? Her loyalty, her ability to do what needs to be done were tested before, though in a less cruel way. Could it be just another test? Couldn't it?

“No!” the voice seemed to be amuzed. “I am not your father. Or mother.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To show you that darkness doesn't only take. It can also give. Watch and learn, child. Watch and learn.”

The black dome above her head split like petals of a budding flower. Dark slices grew thinner and thinner until they resembled dark thorny vines rocking in the still air. The vines grew smaller and smaller, as if the time for them were flowing backwards, and soon they disappeared in the wet carpet of moss and dead fir needles.

Tyelkormo was breathing heavily, his heavy clammy body on top of hers. Tentatively, Nkechi caressed the back of his head. His hair was sweaty, but he was fine. If only she knew how to explain the fall of eternal darkness right on their tiny campsite... Her touch as though woke him up. He propped himself on both elbows to look at her.

“Who you were talking to?” his face suddenly changed as if he saw someone else in her place.

“Your eyes!” Nkechi whispered. No, she can't explain this one. Not ever. First of all, she has no idea what just happened. None at all.

Tyelkormo raised on his knees slowly and buckled his breeches. His beautiful green eyes were full of blackness. No whites were showing, and darkness seeped down his face like a scary semblance of tears. The same thing had happened to Nkechi a few times, when her father summoned the dark element in her presence. Nobody else reacted like that, even the king himself. He explained that Nkechi was particularly vulnerable to the harmful effects of absolute darkness. She was strictly prohibited from even trying to manipulate this element herself. Does Tyelkormo have the same sickness?

“Who exactly are you?” he said, falling on all fours but crawling away from her nevertheless. His hound was dealing with aftermath of the fall much better than both of them together. The huge dog was firmly standing on the ground and busily sniffing the spot where one of the black vines disappeared.

“It's just me,” she said quickly. “I'm still the same as this morning or an hour ago.”

Nkechi sat up. The hem of her shirt slid down and covered her stomach. For some inexplicable reason Tyelkormo was affected. He might be scared, or angry, or both. She needs to tell him what happened, make him understand. On the other hand, he didn't look scared. Even a tiny bit. It suddenly occurred to Nkechi that he hasn't seen his own face yet. Only hers.

“An hour ago your eyes looked normal,” said Tyelkormo.

“Please, listen to me,” Nkechi said, her mind fircely trying to make up some explanation. She can't tell the truth. This is totally out of question. But why are her thoughts so sluggish right now, when they need to be really, really fast?

“I am listening,” he said, and this time he was definitely angry. Tyelkormo sat right on the wet forest floor. His hound came to him and licked his left shoulder blade.

“It happens whenever the darkness falls. I don't mean the sunset, I'm talking about the real one, the one we've just seen. I'm sensitive to it, I guess you are sensitive too. Your eyes will go back to normal very soon. Even before the sunrise. Mine too.”

“And what about your father? Did you think it was his doing?.. Stop licking me, you silly dog!”

Tyelkormo reached with his right hand and rubbed the wet spot, a disgusted look on his face. Then something changed. He rubbed his back again. He scratched it. He bent his neck trying to see behind his shoulder. Nkechi frowned and tipped her head.

“My scar is gone!” said Tyelkormo increduously.

*****

“I have a lot of scars, but only one of them on my back,” he said, when they were sitting beside the small fire he lit again.

Nkechi's shirt was damp from sweat and else, and she pulled the cloak back around her shoulders.

“I got it when I was a child. I fell on a fence, it broke and cut me so badly that I got a scar. Nobody knows, except for the family, so my reputation has been on the stake all my life, if you know what I mean,” this time his grin looked a little lopsided.

“You are very brave, but you have a bad scar on her back,” said Nkechi. “Someone tried to call you a coward who just plays pretend.”

“They tried indeed,” he nodded. “Many elves are so interested in everything that happens in my family. I'm waiting what they are going to say now, when all my scars mysteriously disappeared.”

“What will you do?” she asked.

“I'll get some new ones, of course.”


	3. Lake village

Next morning was as gloomy and overcast as the day before, but the weather long since calmed down, and it was time for them to go. Tyelkormo wrung Nkechi's dress as best as he could, but it was still very wet. Thick wool could resist even a heavy rain for quite some time, but once it got soaked, drying it took forever. The girl didn't complain though. She did require a bit of assistance while getting dressed, damp fabric clinging to her body, making the whole operation a bit tricky. Long vertical slashes that ruined the dress also didn't make it any easier to put it on. Nkechi confused one of them with a sleeve, both of them laughing at her mistake, Tyelkormo closely guiding her next attempt. They set out at dawn, and he was planning to be home for lunch. 

Nkechi. He called her Miriel, but did that name actually fit her? He had too many questions, and they led to one another, making him go in circles. He couldn't sense any danger coming from her though. Huan didn't seem to completely trust her, but neither did Tyelkormo. He had never been attacked by an air-sucking black cloud in his entire life, but then he met Nkechi. A girl who knew a lot but spoke too little. She definitely got scared when the darkness fell, so Tyelkormo didn't blame her for what happened, but trust was a boat that required two rowers in order to float, and he wanted his answers. 

Tyelkormo gave her another observing look. Nkechi was calmly walking by his side in her wet dress, stepping into cold puddles hiding in withered grasses with her bare feet, which didn't seem to bother her at all. He did know a few tough girls, but all of them would have started to turn blue at that point, and Nkechi looked exactly the same as at the start of the journey. Her feet were too muddy to see their colour, but for some reason he was sure he didn't have to worry about frostbite. 

She clearly was enjoying his company, her brown eyes staying on him a little longer each time. He wasn't moved. Whatever flame was burning in him yesterday, it was quenched by the unnatural blackness in her eyes. He stopped and pointed at a long cape cutting the lake body far on the horizon. It was painted in the shades of brown and yellow, trees almost bare and grass dead. A few firs gave the occasional green spots, they stood among small birches and alders as if they were exiles from their huge dark emerald kingdom.

“You can see the village from that spot,” said Tyelkormo. 

“You live in a village?” Nkechi gaped at him.

“It's temporary, we need to spend a few winters somewhere.” he said suddenly feeling that his clothes made him look like a vagabond. Now that he mentioned the village, Nkechi probably saw him in a whole new light. As a farmer boy perhaps. “Soon we will have cities all around Beleriand.”

“Winters are pretty bad here,” said the girl, her crimson dress wet and dirty, but still looking like it belonged to a princess. “You get at least five feet of snow, all your wells freeze, small rivers freeze, and if you spit, do it fast, else the saliva will freeze right on your lips.”

Tyelkormo had a pretty decent control of his face, so he was sure that it didn't flinch. The Sindar gave them a reluctant but fair warning: don't stay in the tents, build yourself homes or you will die. They followed the advice, but when the first winter month came to an end, Tyelkormo was silently cursing his father for burning the ships. They could have split them into timber! 

No, temporary inability to spit wasn't even on the list of their problems. Their hastily built houses were overcrowded, which partly compensated for more than subpar insulation, but made many other things a lot more difficult than they should ever be. Lake Mithrim turned out to be their only water source until spring, and they had to drill its ice every day, because every night it froze again. The snow around them was marred by soot and ashes brought by the nothern wind, their constant reminder that the Enemy keeps himself busy, while they were trapped by the snowy walls of their new home. 

It was obvious that Nkechi didn't have even a basic understanding of what it takes to survive, and for a moment he hated her for that. 

“That is correct,” he agreed. “This land is hard and cold, but in the summer it's abundant with fruits and game. We prepare for the winter quite easily and even get to have some fun while doing it. Stay with us and you will see it for yourself.”

The girl went silent, and he saw a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes. She could control her face too, but lacked experience. Tyelkormo knew she wanted to stay. Nkechi enjoyed his body and wanted more, that much was clear. She didn't know yet that their first time was their last, but something troubled her. Nkechi trusted him, but didn't feel safe. Too many questions, and no way to rush the answers. Tyelkormo was a very skilled hunter and could hold back when necessary. Hopefully, the others wouldn't startle his unusual prize.

***** 

The village stood on a low hill a hundred yards or so from the water, safe from spring flooding. Tall two-storey houses were built from dark cured timber. They lacked any ornaments, as though the builders decided to stick to the essentials, but still had big windows, and from every straw roof a chimney stuck out. Everyone living in the North tried their best to preserve precious warmth during long winter months, but the newcomers were either very arrogant or totally clueless. Nkechi wasn't sure which one since they managed to give their home a very decent protection. A crude but massive stockade girdled the place, and the surrounding forest was cut at least a mile around the village, tree stumps shaved close to the ground. That was actually brilliant. Elves could easily walk, run or fight on uneven ground, but orcs would stumble at each step and become an easy target for the village archers.

It was very quiet around, even though she saw a lot of Elves hurrying along. Nobody was singing songs or playing musical instruments. It seemed as if everyone was doing something useful, busily preparing for a winter ordeal lying ahead. Tyelkormo promised that his people knew how to have fun, but maybe their idea of fun was too different from anything Nkechi was used to. Maybe it was bringing water or chopping wood that really got their spirits high. Nkechi wasn't sure she would survive even a month doing only chores. Even for the sake of beautiful Tyelkormo, who grew cold and distant after he saw blackness in her eyes. Such a change of attitude for a man who was already in love with her. That was sad of course, since she still liked him, but Nkechi wanted to meet someone who wasn't afraid of her. 

Her dress received quite a few glances, and Nkechi suddenly became aware of how shabby she looked. A girl wearing a dress that resembled a rag, her skin showing through the long vertical cuts. Her feet covered in mud so thickly that it already looked like a pair of particularly dirty socks. Her hair... The hair was probably the worst. Tyelkormo allowed her to borrow his comb, but she wasn't used to looking after her own hair, and it was so long, so curly. Her maids had been spending hours getting it smooth and shiny, but now she was on her own, and she didn't look like a future queen anymore. Nkechi was a girl found in the wilderness, and that was what everyone saw. 

A tall dark-haired Elf who looked very much alike Tyelkormo, as if they were family, met them at the village gate. 

“Greetings, brother!” grinned Tyelkormo, the ice in his eyes suddenly thawing. 

“You never come back empty-handed,” the other Elf nodded at Nkechi, who already started to feel slightly jealous. 

“This is fair Miriel, she almost became a wild woman living in the forest when I came by and saved her.”

“I am Curufinwe,” the dark-haired Elf said, looking into her eyes for the very first time. “I hope, my brother didn't bother you too much. He is more used to be around his dog than his people, and he easily forgets about manners.”

His dog has better manners than you, Nkechi wanted to say, the words almost slid from her tongue, but she made herself to manage a polite smile. She was alone, a dark creature at the door of an Elvish home. It wasn't the right time or place to show temper. 

“I am not familiar with this part of the North, and I was lucky to meet Tyelkormo,” she said. 

“All well that ends well,” said Curufinwe and looked back at his brother. “Now why don't you go and clean yourself. I will ask the women to look after your guest.”

“Actually, I'm going to offer Miriel my room,” said Tyelkormo. “I'm sure, she will be more comfortable there than cramming together with five or six other girls.”

Curufinwe's eyes widened for a moment.

“Very well,” he said. “I'd better send someone to fetch my things, as your room happens to be my room and Tyelpe's room as well.”

He glared at his brother and left. Tyelkormo chuckled. 

“I'm wondering if your brothers are equally unbearable as mine,” he said.

Nkechi shook her head.

“I don't have brothers. Or sisters. I'm the only child.”

For a moment she wished that she could tell Tyelkormo something funny about her family. Just to keep the conversation going. She couldn't. The North could have only one queen, and her parents weren't exactly a funny folk. Her father was powerful and cruel, her mother had a personality of a very poisonous snake and couldn't even connect with her only daughter. None of them were funny. Not ever. 

“You missed a lot of fun,” he said casually, walking towards the center of the village. “They can be a pain in the backside, but they are my flesh and blood and I love them. Any cousins?”

Nkechi shook her head.

“Oh. I have six brothers and I'm not sure how many cousins. There are so many of them and they keep moving around. It's impossible to count them.”

“How did you count your brothers then?” she asked.

“I didn't. My parents kept the score,” he grinned. 

Nkechi laughed. It felt as if something tight in her chest suddenly turned into a swarm of butterflies and flew away. 

Tyelkormo stopped in front of a house with a meat drying rack in the front. 

“This is where I live together with my brother, my nephew, and this exceptional dog,” he nodded at Huan, who was showing a stoic indifference to the meats displayed right in front of his nose. “I was expected to come back today, so the bath is already waiting. I'll show you there, and while you are at it, someone will prepare the room and the bed.”

“Thank you,” said Nkechi. 

She meant it. She endured cold very well, but a single thought of a basin with hot steamy water got her undone. Nkechi wanted to take off her ruined dress, to clean her body, her hair, maybe to massage a bit of fragrance oil into her skin if they had any. She gave Tyelkormo a helpless look, unable to wait even a moment longer. 

He gave a lighthearted laugh and led her inside.


	4. Brothers talking

Their first days in Beleriand were long gone, the new life they found here caught them like the wind catches a handful of dry leaves, and weeks between their little get togethers turned into months and sometimes years. It wasn't like they didn't want to see each other. No. They still loved one another and deeply cared, but there were things, so many things that had to be put before everything. Even love. 

This time it was four of them. Two eldest brothers came visiting and spent the whole summer on the shores of the lake that once upon a time was a symbol of the rift between them and the kin they had betrayed. Old grudges long since ground by harsh reality, it was now rumoured to be the best fishing spot in the northern Beleriand. Maitimo and Makalaure were ready to head back east where the crude forts they built were already prepared for the coming winter. They were waiting only for Tyelkormo to get back from one of his scouting trips. One last day together, one last meal before returning to their endless responsibilities. 

The four brothers were sitting in the guest house, a luxurious nonessential the exiles could barely afford in the land they now called home. So much contrast with the life they once led, having endless rooms always ready for a few friends staying overnight. No more spontaneous visits, everything carefully planned well in advance, no more boredom they were burning in huge feasts and songs about everyone and everything, and dancing under the stars. All of that left behind along with the eternal summer. 

“I say that Moringotto closed the shop very early this year,” said Makalaure. “It almost looks like he learned his lesson and decided to gather more power before making his next move. This is a bittersweet victory for us. We showed him his place, but next time he will prepare much better.”

“There is no victory until we take father's gems back,” said Maitimo, slouching in front of his bowl of stew. 

How did this happen, thought Tyelkormo, quietly offering Huan a bone with plenty of meat still on it; the dog munched into it with a sound of dignified delight. When did the Enemy become such a huge part of their lives, taking the space once occupied by arts and crafts and beautiful lovers? All of them changed after their father died and Maitimo was taken, all of them were hurrying to finish this war as soon as possible, but what if it was already finished and they were the only ones who failed to notice. Moringotto crept into their conversations, made himself at home in their thoughts, what if he already won without even fighting. What if the sons of Feanaro turned into the shells of themselves filled with strategy, tactics and battle plans. And hatred. 

“We will have plenty of time to get ready,” said Curufinwe dipping a piece of freshly smelling bread into the thick sauce left in the bottom of his bowl. “I will get to it as soon as I move into this guesthouse you are so kindly vacating.”

“What difference does it make to you? You live in your forge anyway,” said Makalaure. “You even fall asleep in a corner on a bag of straw.”

“It makes all the difference to my son,” said Curufinwe. “He can't grow up sleeping every day in a new house. He is not a beggar, he needs a long-term place to stay.”

“What about the girl?” suddenly asked Maitimo. He barely touched his food, even though his tall frame desperately needed to put on some weight.

“What about her?” said Tyelkormo. He welcomed a change of topic. Crops, new puppies, pretty girls brought from the wilderness, everything but Moringotto.

“You are giving up your house for her, looks like she totally won you over.”

“Chill out, brother, I'm not marrying her,” said Tyelkormo feeling three pairs of eyes on himself. Makalaure showing only polite interest, his thoughts no doubt working on countless strategies. Curufinwe's face dripping with irony like a grilling fatty meat. You never are, it was saying. 

“Why not?” asked Maitimo. “I hear that she is exceptionally beautiful, and you obviously care about her.” 

Tyelkormo glared at Curufinwe who slightly shrugged. Change of topic was a good thing, but Maitimo didn't need any more weird ideas into his head than he already had. 

“She is very special,” said Tyelkormo carefully, “for a completely different reason.” 

“Do enlighten us,” said Curufinwe and earned another glare. 

Tyelkormo got up from the bench and pulled up the fresh shirt he put on before joining the table. He slowly turned around putting up a show.

“Oh, no, you don't...”

Curufinwe stopped with a quiet gasp.

Tyelkormo shed the shirt onto the bench. His body smelled like lovemaking beside the campfire after a very long road, but none of his brothers said a word. They stared at his torso, sunkissed and so smooth, as if it had never been touched by anything harder than a lover's hand. Maitimo leaned forward as if he was going to climb right across the table. His eyes were full of such yearning that for a moment Tyelkormo felt pity for him. Maitimo, his beautiful well-built brother, forever maimed by Enemy's hand. Tyelkormo comfortably thought that Maitimo got used to his scars, like all of them did sooner or later, that everyday chores distracted him from the ugliness of his body. He realised now that it never happened. Maitimo kept longing, and no healer, Noldo or Vala, could ever help him. 

“Tell us everything that happened,” said Makalaure. 

“I couldn't possibly do that,” said Tyelkormo and sat down. “But yes, this girl is a healer, although she works in truly extraordinary ways, let me say that.”

“Can she fix me as well?” asked Maitimo, and there was so much more in his voice than he had ever confessed to his brothers.

“So, you were shagging the last brains out of each other, when does the healing come in?” asked Curufinwe. 

“Actually, both things came hand in hand,” said Tyelkormo. He decided not to mention the attack that nearly took away his life. What if it paints Nkechi as a dark creature? He didn't need it.

Maitimo slouched back on his seat, as if all the air suddenly left him. He peered into his bowl of cold stew, and Tyelkormo knew exactly what he felt. An impossible hope given and taken almost at the same moment. No girl would ever take him into her bed, unless for true love, and this was something Maitimo couldn't return. He already gave it away. For better or for worse, to a completely unsuitable person, but it was gone. 

“How is it even possible?!” asked Makalaure.

Tyelkormo shrugged, keeping his eyes on their eldest brother. 

“Like I've already said, she works in extraordinary ways.”

“We could ask her,” said Curufinwe.

“Don't be daft,” said Tyelkormo. “We can't just ask her to sleep with someone, even if it's our brother.”

“Of course we can't,” Curufinwe agreed. “But what if you misread the situation, and healing didn't actually come with shagging.”

Maitimo raised his head, new hope slowly burning in his eyes. Tyelkormo cursed silently.

“I was really planning to head off today,” said Makalaure. 

“Go ahead,” Curufinwe nodded. “He can stay with me, I'm already used to living with one brother or another.”

“What about me?” 

“I don't know. Ask your dog to give you a corner in his kennel.”

“Huan doesn't even have a kennel!”

***** 

Nkechi knew this was a dream. She was standing in her winter garden, the moon shining through the transparent dome above her head. Twenty dead maidens were lying in circle in the dark grass, their limbs relaxed, their features peaceful as if they were asleep. Large crimson flowers grew right through their bodies, giving the girls their last adornment and chaining them to the ground all at the same time. Nkechi looked at them until she felt as if another flower bloomed inside her chest, its thorns shredding her flesh, red tender petals hungrily drinking her blood. 

“They were dead since the day your father brought them to his castle. You only set them free,” said the familiar voice. 

It was back. The creature whispering to her from the dark. Only it wasn't whispering anymore, as if it finally stopped hiding. 

“You might be the only one who truly escaped from its walls,” said the girl who was wearing the same richly embroidered dress Nkechi picked on her last morning at home. “There were others who managed to break their chains and return to their loved ones. But little good it did for them. If the flesh is resting on a soft bed instead of bare stones, does it mean that the prison of Angamando is truly broken? They walk among their free kin, all eyes blind to the truth because it's too terrible.”

“Who are you?” Nkechi whispered, staring at her pale face as if into a mirror. An evil mirror showing so much more than she was willing to see. 

“More importantly, who are you, Nkechi?” the girl said. “A careless princess who sings and dances all day long, and plays silly games because she has nothing better to do. Or the true queen this world has been waiting for. The choice is yours.”


	5. Dinner disaster

“Would you like to meet my eldest brother?” he asked casually, perching on Curufinwe's writing table, now empty. “Come and dinner with us. He is not nearly as nasty as Curufinwe, I promise.”

Nkechi was standing at the open window, last bits of dull sunlight falling on her figure and giving it a strange unearthly glow. She was quite a spectacle to look at. Tyelkormo asked around and found a new red dress for her to wear instead of the ruined one. It was plain and unadorned, its colour resembling of a crimson sunset, a wounded sky seeping with fresh blood. Her rich black hair fell almost to her thighs, the contrast making her luminous white skin look even whiter. In her hands she held a wide hair ribbon. A red one, to match the dress. Three crimson flowers made of silk sat on the ribbon and looked very real. Tyelkormo thought that a little hair ornament would add a nice touch, but for some reason Nkechi wasn't particularly eager to put it on. 

She just stood there holding the ribbon in her hands, gently as if it was a dead puppy. The red of her dress, the black of her hair, the sadness in her eyes made her look like a living symbol of the House of Feanaro, he realized. The symbol of what they sowed, a promise of a ripened fruit to fall in every hand, regardless of what it held on that last day in Alqualonde. A sword, a bag with hastily packed possessions or a child's hand. 

“You don't have to wear it, you know,” he said, already tired of waiting. 

Nkechi shook her head slowly. 

“I think that I do,” she said simply and fixed the ribbon on her hair. 

“Why? You don't owe me anything. Just toss it aside if you don't like it, I won't take offence over something like that.”

A weak smile appeared on her lips.

“There are things I need to remember,” said Nkechi. “Sad things. My heart breaks every time I think about them, but this is what I deserve.”

Tyelkormo didn't want to know what she meant. He wouldn't have asked even if he did. Not when his own hands still felt slicked with Teleri blood. He looked at Nkechi and saw her differently. She was an exquisite little thing indeed. She wore silk flowers on her forehead like rubies, her plain dress draped around her shoulders like a royal mantle. Tyelkormo suddenly thought that this was how it could look like if Nerdanel ever had a daughter. Nkechi wasn't his sister, but now she felt like one. A sister in blood, a sister in bloodshed. He knew that he would never sleep with her again.

***** 

Her every step squeezed a bit of muddy water from the gaps between the long wooden planks paving the village street. Nkechi was holding the skirt of her new dress in both hands, pulling the hem as high as she dared. Nobody was going to look after her clothes anymore, and she had no idea how to do it herself. Therefore, she set her mind to being extra careful. Nkechi had never dressed herself before today too, but it turned out to be quite an easy task. The red dress Tyelkormo brought for her wasn't tailored and had to be draped around her waist. She didn't have a mirror at hand to check the result, but the look in his eyes told her that she did a good job. The dress was long enough to cover the points of her new sturdy boots, a bit big but nothing that a second pair of socks couldn't help with. The hair ribbon was the second best thing he gave her. Nkechi still wasn't sure abouth the first one. Was it his trust or the carnal pleasure she tasted in his arms? 

Three crimson flowers adorning the ribbon looked as if they came straight out of her last dream. They made the blood covered flower in her chest grow bigger, its thorns biting into her flesh even harder, but somehow she welcomed the feeling. Nkechi held the ribbon as if it was a lifeless dear hand and put it on as soon as Tyelkormo told her to just throw it away. 

The sunlight died out even before they left the house, but none of them needed a source of light other than the stars above their heads. The sky was clear, and Nkechi felt its thick blackness seeping into her every pore. Nobody called her from the dark, the air was almost still, and she actually looked forward to meeting Tyelkormo's eldest brother. Was he as handsome as Tyelkormo? He had to be. Strictly speaking, all Eldar were pleasant to look at, but there was something else she hadn't been aware of before. Something that could spark a blaze inside her body. Nkechi didn't know its name, but she was curious if the said brother possessed such a quality. 

Tyelkormo brought her to what he referred as the guesthouse, where the table was already laid, and two Elves were waiting for them inside. One of them was Curufinwe. The second Elf gazed at her, his eyes like lead grey nothern sea, and Nkechi felt as if the thin ice under her feet suddenly broke and she fell right in. It wasn't a beautiful feeling. It was very lonely. And cold. She felt sinking slowly, the surface turning into a yellow-green spot above her head, too far for a friendly hand to reach her, too far for anyone to hear her silent cry. 

She came back to the painful grip on her armpits. Nkechi looked there and saw that she leaned on Tyelkormo who was holding her tightly. The third Elf was now looking away, Curufinwe's arm resting around his shoulders. 

“Meet Maitimo, my eldest brother,” Tyelkormo said quietly. “He was captured by Moringotto. A friend saved him four years ago.”

Nkechi felt how her legs went numb for a moment. Tyelkormo's brother used to be a prisoner. Her father's prisoner. The vision of twenty dead maidens lying on the moonlit grass appeared in front of her eyes and then vanished.

Maitimo got up, suddenly towering above all three of them, his clothes hanging like an empty bag on his exceptionally tall frame. His hair was the colour of rust, it fell on both sides of his gaunt face and touched his chest. 

“You brought her to eat, so let her eat,” he said. “Save that story for another day.”

“She doesn't look hungry,” said Curufinwe. 

Tyelkormo led her to the table and helped to sit down onto a flat cushion that was making the hard bench under it a little more gentle on the backside. Maitimo now was sitting across the table on the right, Curufinwe being in front of her. He picked two small pies from one of the big dishes and put them on Maitimo's plate, Nkechi's appetite clearly being the last of his concerns if any. 

“That is true, I don't eat much,” she said, seeing with a corner of her eye that Tyelkormo already put some food on her plate. “A good rest is usually all I need. I prefer that someone else gets to eat.”

“You are very brave, but in this village only dogs get to finish what was left on your plate,” said Curufinwe. “And if you leave too much, they will become very fat. We can't have it, so you will have to clean it yourself.”

Maitimo took a pie into his left hand and took a bite. He didn't look hungry as well despite being skin-and-bones, his whole attention drawn to Nkechi. He stared and she allowed herself to stare back. Just a little bit. He was the first left-handed Elf she had ever met and it already made him a better person to look at than Curufinwe. Maitimo wasn't handsome. He had been before, but all was gone. There were scars on his face, on his neck and even on his left hand, but they were not the main reason why Nkechi felt a whole lot of nothing when looking at him. Maitimo was slouching, and not in a lazy relaxed way. More like as if was trying to look smaller. He slouched. He had hardly any meat on his bones. He was barely there. She did risk looking into his eyes again. More than once, actually, but the feeling of herself slowly sinking towards the seabed never came back. 

Nkechi made herself to look into her plate instead. Everyone was eating but her, and it felt awkward. There were a couple of small pies, each one of slightly different shape, a thick piece of meat and some boiled radish. Would it really be fed to dogs, even though she didn't touch anything? 

“Does he look that bad?” asked Curufinwe. 

Tyelkormo hit the table with the spoon he was working with. Nkechi pulled away from him, only then noticing that he was glaring at Curufinwe. 

“I just find it unusual that he prefers his left hand,” Nkechi said hurriedly. She had to make them stop. 

“Quite unusual indeed,” Curufinwe's half-smile became scary. “Though he doesn't have much of a choice, I'm afraid. My brother was hung by his right wrist to the bloody mountain, and our dear Findekano had to chop off his hand just to set him free.”

Nkechi froze. She knew the story. Of couse she did. A Noldo sneaked into the heart of their kingdom and stole one of her father's most prized prisoners. That caused a lot of talking and whispering all around the castle, as if every single stone suddenly got a voice. Soon they went silent of course, and their chains became stronger than ever, because only a glimpse of hope could make the deepest desperation even deeper. Nkechi looked at Maitimo, his head low, his face hidden behind red hair, and suddenly she saw what the creature from her nightmare meant. 

Maitimo returned to his kin, but was he actually free? His slouching, his lack of appetite, him trying to make it look like he wasn't there...

The second thought stunned her. The stolen prisoner was the son of Feanaro, their arch-enemy who dared to wage war on the true king of Arda. Nkechi looked at Tyelkormo helplessly, his eyes worried but trying to foresee what she was going to say next. She was at the hands of those who hated her the most, and it was only her being lucky that they still didn't know who she really was. 

“I'm not going to sugarcoat my next question,” said Curufinwe. “Can you fix him or not? I saw what you did for Tyelkormo, and frankly speaking, my eldest brother needs it more than anybody else. He suffered the greatest evil from the hands of Moringotto, and it is in your power to give back what was taken from him.”

Nkechi looked at red matted hair hiding Maitimo's face, and she knew that he too was listening. 

“I can't turn the time back,” she said, her heart pounding. “Nobody can.”

Nkechi got up, the Elves seemed to be staying where they were, they weren't rushing to catch her hand, to stop her. 

“A pile of sand can't become a mountain again, and you are fools if you don't understand it!”

She turned away and ran out of the door, hearing the pursuit behind her back, always two steps behind. Nkechi didn't know the exact layout of the village, but her gut feeling knew which way the gate was, and she ran there as fast as she could. She saw it opening to let a single rider in and then closing again. A dark-haired elf slid from the horse, and even from the distance Nkechi saw thin strands of gold braided into his hair. She reached him and clutched his cloak.

“Please help me! I want to leave this place!”

“I came hoping to see Maitimo before he goes back, but now it seems that there is more for me to do here,” he said calmly. 

The Elf didn't try to unclutch her fingers, he was standing and looking at someone behind her back.

“Don't be dramatic, Findekano,” said Tyelkormo. “She is my guest, she can leave any moment she likes.”

“The moment came, I believe,” said Findekano. The only Noldo who went to Angamando on his free will and came back. 

She slowly raised her head and looked into his face, trying to see what made him so different from others. 

“Arrgh! Whatever! Do as you wish.”

She heard Tyelkormo's steps sounding further and further. He was returning to the guesthouse.

“I'll take you home,” said Findekano finally looking into her eyes. “Where is it?”

Would he actually deliver her to the gates of Angamando? Did she even want to go back? 

Will it ever be the same without them, Nkechi thought and immediately knew the answer. Her friends gone, there was nothing else for her in that cold dark castle.

“My home lies in ruins, I have nowhere to go. But I can't stay here.”

Findekano considered her words for a moment. 

“I'll take you to my people then,” he said. “You can make yourself a new home there if you want.”

Nkechi silently repeated his last words, their meaning slowly sinking into her mind. Could she really do it? Could she live on her own without her father's shadow looming on her? 

She will have to find out.


	6. Their hearts full of shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for kudos and comments! They really motivate me :)

“Are you happy now?” said Tyelkormo storming into the guesthouse, his blood boiling, or was it really blood? He didn't remember something so black and poisonous running through his veins. 

Both brothers were still waiting for him, tense and ignoring each other. Did they exchange a couple of words while he was out? Arrgh! With Makalaure gone, Tyelkormo felt as if he was trying to walk a pack of wild dogs on a leash. Curufinwe was his brother, his best friend and lately his responsibility, and he was bearable as long as you didn't pay attention to his bitter comments. Maitimo, by their silent agreement, was Makalaure's charge, he required a totally different treatment, and it finally occurred to Tyelkormo that nobody on Arda could be as thick-skinned as a bear yet empathetic like the Grey Lady herself all at the same time. 

“Are you implying that I was unhappy?” Curufinwe asked calmly, and Tyelkormo wanted to yell at him. His little brother was perfectly capable to restrain himself. Did it mean that he actually said all those things on purpose?

“You are angry, Curvo. You are always angry! What has she done to you? You only met her today, and she already ran away.”

“Just talk to her tomorrow when she calms down,” Curufinwe shrugged. “She seems to be fond of you. I'm sure, you can muster a sob story to soften her heart.”

Tyelkormo gritted his teeth. Never! Never ever had he aimed for a woman's pity. And he wasn't starting it now.

“Not happening, brother. She ran into Findekano on her way to the gate, and now he is going to save her from me.”

“Findekano is here?” Maitimo muttered, his face instantly lit up.

“He should know you better,” said Curufinwe. “You've never done a bad thing to a pretty maiden. Only good things.”

The sound of a slap came like thunder in the middle of a winter. Two brothers froze, their wide eyes on Tyelkormo who stood with his hand still in the air. 

“You sting and sting, when will you run out of poison?” he said in a slightly trembling voice. 

Curufinwe charged without saying a word, his face looking lopsided with fury. Something dark flashed through the air, and a tall gaunt body suddenly stood between them. 

“Just stop it already,” said Maitimo. “It's not worth it. I'm not worth it.”

“It's not you,” said Tyelkormo, feeling drunk from all his unspent rage. He pointed in the direction where he knew was north. “It's HIM. We brought him here. By our thoughts, by our words. We need to stop now, brothers. We need to remember who we are...”

Before it became too late, he wanted to say but didn't dare. Not to Maitimo. 

“We all do what we must,” said Maitimo. “Let's just not fight each other. Let's save it for Moringotto.”

She isn't our enemy, Tyelkormo thought. She isn't holding the Silmarills from us. She is just a girl, and we scared her to death. 

“I agree,” said Curufinwe, calm and restrained once again. “Just don't act so righteous, Tyelko. You didn't lose as much as everyone else. Your beloved dog is here, and you are doing all your favourite things, as if nothing happened. You have no idea what the rest of us are going through.” 

“You are right,” said Tyekormo. “I'm the lucky one. Just don't make my next bird fly away. Find yourself a different amusement.”

***** 

A golden mare lazily jogged down the lakeshore, fresh and strong under her two riders but totally lacking any enthusiasm. She was already tucked in for the night when the stable boy suddenly appeared and wheedled her outside. The mare was a replacement for Findekano's shabby sturdy little gelding bought from the Sindar a few years ago. Tyelkormo tried to insist that they should stay for the night and have a good rest, both Noldo and his horse, but Findekano needed to be back by morning. So he left the village, taking Miriel with him. The girl was quiet, and he could see that she was glad to be going. 

He didn't get to see Maitimo. 

“Now is not the best time,” said Tyelkormo. “Trust me, cousin. Head back for today, I will deal with things here and come to you. We will talk, and I will tell you everything.”

Did Findekano trust him? He had to. Maitimo stayed with his brothers, so he kept saying to himself: they are capable of doing the right thing. And they were. He knew it well. They took a good care of their eldest brother and even seemed to come to terms with him giving up the crown to their half-uncle. But what about the wrong things they were capable of? He didn't want even to start in that direction.

“I don't know, what happened between you and the sons of Feanaro, but you shouldn't be afraid of them,” he said softly, Miriel's head lying on his chest, her luminous skin gently glowing in the moonlight. “They can be scary, I suppose, but they would never hurt a woman.”

Unless she is holding a Silmaril in her hand, he thought. That was where the things could get ugly. But Miriel was just a pretty girl with no Silmarills on her. Tyelkormo was the worst womanizer in Valinor, but ladies liked him. He accepted an occasional smack in the head with dignity and regarded it as an unavoidable price to pay for pursuing the most capricious and exquisite women of the three courts. No woman had ever run away from him in the dark, her eyes huge with terror. Not ever, until today. 

“I'm not scared,” said Miriel. “I just don't want to be there anymore. It's a sad place. I can't bear it.”

Sad. That was one word to describe it, not necessarily the best one. Findekano didn't like to visit the northern shore, and he could see where Tyelkormo got that habit of going on the next scouting trip as soon as he returned from the previous one. There was something in the air. Something he couldn't really name, but it was dark and potent. He wished Maitimo came visiting him on the southern shore instead, but Maitimo rarely went anywhere without his chaperone, and Makalaure was too busy for social calls. 

What could possibly have happened that he left Maitimo with two younger brothers? Did Maitimo decide to stay? Findekano's heart began to pound when he thought about it, about Maitimo wanting to be closer to him. Wanting something other than defeating Moringotto and getting the Silmarills back. 

“How did you steal Maitimo from Angamando?” 

What a strange way to put it.

“It's a long story, let's save it for another day,” he said. “And I didn't steal him. Maitimo didn't belong there in the first place.”

“I guess, it depends on where you are coming from,” she said thoughtfully.

His gut feeling, that saved him many times during the arduous journey across the great ice desert, gave out a small sound. It wasn't sensing any immediate danger yet, but something definitely was off. Miriel was almost defending Moringotto, robbed in his own house. Weird. Suspicious. Findekano tried to see her point but failed.

“And where are you coming from, Miriel?” he asked. 

She went silent, and he decided to try again.

“How do you know Tyelkormo?”

“He found me on the lakeshore after the storm,” she seemed relieved that he dropped the previous topic. “I was fine, but still lucky to have met him. I don't know this part of the North, and I would have been lost without him.”

“You mean the last storm? The one from the day before yesterday?”

She nodded. 

“You were lucky, indeed,” he said slowly. “Why were you alone in the land you are not familiar with?”

Findekano felt that her body drooped a bit. One more topic Miriel didn't want to discuss.

“I was at home, it's far from here, then some creature showed up and took me. Next time I opened my eyes was beside the fire Tyelkormo made for me.”

She talked warmly about that fire, and Findekano immediately sensed that there was more to it than Miriel confessed. He wasn't surprised. The worst womanizer in the whole West, could he meet a beautiful girl and not have his way with her? Nobody ever complained about Tyelkormo's ways, so Findekano wasn't judging. Miriel sounded a little naïve. Inexperienced. Could it be that she put into Tyelkormo higher hopes than he deserved? Therefore her flight. 

“He knows how to look after someone,” said Findekano, trying not to make his thoughts too obvious. 

“I like him too,” Miriel nodded. “We were not destined to share the same path, but it was nice to know him. Can I tell you something?”

He frowned. Was she taking him for her best friend? Someone she could share with even the most intimate details from her life.

“It's important, and I can't figure it out on my own. I'm telling you, because you are not like others. You went to the foulest place on Arda, but it didn't stain you even a bit. You saw the eternal darkness and it didn't change you.”

Told you so, his gut feeling yawned. 

“Maybe you will hate me after I finish, maybe you will leave me in this forest or kill me, but I still trust you, Findekano. They believe that I can heal Maitimo's scars. At least the ones on his body. They might be right, but I don't understand how exactly it would happen.”

He stopped the horse, barely seeing anything before his eyes.

“I don't even know if someone like me can heal. I used to live in the same castle where Maitimo was kept captive. I grew up there. I'm tarnished, how I could do anything good at all?”

Findekano looked at the dark creature in his arms. Taken from her dark home by some insane stranger. Stolen. Or so she said. Could he actually kill her? Tie a couple of big stones to her lifeless body and bury it in Lake Mithrim to never be found? 

Just a girl. Small frame, thin wrists, eyes huge as if she was a frightened doe. Moringotto fooled all of them back in Valinor, except for Feanaro and even then it was unclear whether the greatest of Noldor spotted the black sheep or simply opposed Moringotto for the same reasons he opposed everyone else. Miriel looked helpless, but in fact she could be a poisonous snake coiled and ready to strike. She was just a girl he only met today, but he was bringing her to his people, who were clueless and therefore vulnerable. Could he risk everything for someone he didn't even know?

Findekano slowly shook his head. She would be an easy kill, nobody would come looking for her. He could save everyone, even Maitimo, if he simply did what he had to. 

“Don't tell anybody else what you've told me. Do you understand?” he said blankly. 

They weren't fools back then. They were pure. They trusted everyone who claimed to be good, because they didn't know any better. Now that innocence was long lost. It drowned in the waters of Alqualonde crimson with Teleri's blood. It burned with the ships that never came back. The last tiny bits were buried in the icy tomb of Helcaraxe. He was tarnished too, and he knew it. Miriel wasn't doing anything evil, she was sitting in his arms and waiting, waiting for a kinslayer to decide her fate.

“Be careful, Miriel, or I might not be able to protect you.”

She relaxed against his chest, and he knew he made the right choice. 


	7. New beginnings

A girl named Firinn came in to help with the hair. Her fingers skilled and nimble, she arranged Nkechi's rich tresses into an artistic bun, hairpins decorated with small shiny gems. A massive necklace from some golden metal than wasn't gold helped to compensate for the plain look of Nkechi's red dress. A new belt ornamented with shiny buckles and stones finished the set. Those were the gifts Findekano sent to her. Was it to make up for the rough treatment Nkechi received from his cousins or a sign of something else? That thought came and went, ashamed by its own practicality. It was only jewellery, after all. Whatever message it was meant to convey, every single word fell on ears made deaf by the warm fingers of a Noldo girl, whose every touch caressed the blood-soaked flower in Nkechi's chest. 

“ Did I do something to upset you, my lady?” asked Firinn. 

Nkechi shook her head, finally unable to hold back her tears. Would she ever tell anyone about what happened on her last night at home? She didn't think so. The maids had to die, they were the chain keeping her in Angamando. Nkechi could escape any day she liked, her quarters were not heavily guarded, but there were twenty girls to take care of. She couldn't sneak them out of the castle, she couldn't leave them behind. They were in it together until the end of time, but then the creature whispering to her from the dark told about the path she would never have taken on her own. Was it worth it? Was it really worth it? Nkechi destroyed the bars of her cage, but all she got in return was a night with a handsome boy and a few gems. Surely that could have been arranged for at home, and different hands would be making her hair now, hands that she loved. Hands she would never feel again. 

“I'm sorry, Firinn. I'm fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so, my lady. His Royal Highness sent you so many pretty gifts, but you still want to cry. That won't do at all.”

“You are very lucky, Firinn, if all your tears can be stopped with a couple of trinkets. But I am sad, really sad, and not even the Iron Crown itself could improve it.”

The girl looked bored.

“I'm sorry, my lady. I meant to distract your thoughts from bad things to happy things. I see that it didn't work.”

“Just don't do it again,” said Nkechi and immediately saw in girl's eyes that she wouldn't, indeed. It looked like sweet Firinn made a silent promise to never come back, and moreover, she was going to keep it. 

Being left by a servant, that was new. Firinn wasn't born to be a queen, but she was skilled and therefore valuable, and obviously well-liked. She was confident. Could she really flick an unwanted mistress away? Nkechi felt as if she suddenly woke up. Everything around her appeared so clear for the first time. Her small rectangular room with white walls and dark wooden furniture. A large bed, its headboard decorated with ornate carvings, a huge chest of drawers taller than she was and already half-full, although nothing in its belly belonged to her. A small table holding a washing basin and a jug of water, intricately painted with birds that came straight out of a dream, their feathers coloured pink and gold. A big window was covered with a white screen, protecting the room and everyone inside from the draft. Its fabric went slightly yellow with age, but the image of a dance embroidered in white silk and tiny pearls still looked as gorgeous as years ago. A tall furnace in the corner, metal leaves and flowers covering its shiny surface, was ready for the winter. That was an accommodation fit for a princess. There was even a sheep skin on the floor for her to put her bare feet on as she climbed out of the bed. Findekano didn't know who she was, but he surely got it that Nkechi was well-born and required the best treatment he could afford. Whereas Firinn, no matter how useful she was, would never get to dine with her lord or receive a nice piece of jewellery from him to match her dress.

Nkechi quickly rinsed her face, she didn't even wait for Firinn to offer assistance. 

“Well then,” she said in a light voice, “that dinner isn't going to eat itself.”

Findekano lived in a big house, white and crisscrossed with dark wooden beams on the outside. Its interior was holding many delights of an Elven home and quite a few rooms. On the ground floor there was a dining room, a sitting room, Findekano's office, a storage area and a library. Bedrooms were on the first floor, servants lived in the attic. The kitchen was a separate small building in the backyard, an arrangement probably effective to prevent fires, but Nkechi had a reasonable doubt that anyone in the household got to eat a hot meal during the winter. 

Findekano bought most of his furniture from the Sindar, but some items were clearly made by Noldorin hands here in Beleriand. Nkechi could see the difference in style very well. Could some of those chests and tables in the hallway have been made by Findekano? Somehow this thought was very endearing. 

The dining room wasn't very spacious. It was appropriate for a family or a few visiting friends, but a feast would have to be moved elsewhere. To the garden perhaps. Or better to the lakeshore. The oval table that could fit up to ten people was already laid for two, and both sets of plates placed next to each other. The master of the house was waiting for her at the window, its stained glass panes painting the room in shades of blue, green and yellow.

“We are hungry for colour here in the North,” he said, when she came to him. “Did you have windows like this one where you came from?”

That was a very direct way to start a conversation about Angamando, her life there and whatever else that topic entailed. Findekano said that her home must stay a secret, yet he was already talking about it. Was he reckless or, on the contrary, very careful and shrewd. If you want to hide something, put it in a plain view, Nkechi thought. Their conversation could be easily overheard by anyone in the house, but Findekano was making it sound too boring to be worth of eavesdropping. That was clever.

“No. I had a winter garden where flowers bloomed all year around.”

“How was it heated?” he looked genuinely curious.

“Pipes circulated water through the furnace,” Nkechi said, trying to remember the exact details of the installation. The construction was finished when she was but a child, and later she simply wasn't too interested to look into it properly, but the hope for a normal peaceful conversation was too strong. No prisoners, no blood and gore, just a regular dinner with a small talk about gardens and stuff. 

“I know someone who built a greenhouse using the same system,” said Findekano and turned towards the table, silently inviting her to follow. “We don't employ it in the houses though. It's too hungry for wood.”

They sat down, and Findekano put some food first on her plate, then on his. There were no servants to wait for them. A dinner together, and no eyes or ears around, just the two of them. More bad news for Firinn.

“You have a beautiful house,” Nkechi said, and she meant it. “On the north shore they live differently.”

“What you saw was their first village here in Beleriand,” said Findekano, “they had to hurry.”

“This is your first town.”

Findekano smiled. The look in his eyes became warmer, and Nkechi felt that she was smiling back.

“We put our efforts into this place, because this is where we intend to stay, while the sons of Feanaro look to expand. I guess, it explains some of the difference.”

Soon we will have cities all around Beleriand, said Tyelkormo. Ambitious but overstretched, Nkechi thought. 

“Have you met Tyelkormo's brothers? He has six.”

“I've met two,” she said. “What are the rest of them like?”

Findekano gave out a loud wholehearted laugh.

“They are a handful. Each of them.”

“What about you?”

The words slipped from her tongue before she could stop them. Too frank. Too awkward, too soon. Findekano smiled, and for a moment it became more than a perfectly normal small talk over a perfectly normal dinner. 

“I'm their cousin. What does it make me?”

“You came for Maitimo, even though you are only a cousin. You are different,” she said. 

Findekano put down his spoon and leaned back.

“I see that this story just keeps coming back,” he said without looking at her. “What can I tell you that you don't already know?”

“To be honest, I don't know much,” Nkechi said. She didn't touch any of her food, but Findekano didn't seem to notice. “But there is one thing I don't really get.”

“What is it?”

“You didn't know that you would find him, did you?”

Findekano shook his head.

“But you still came for him. Without hope, without an army, without reward. You just did it. Why?” 

She couldn't fathom the reason. Maybe that was something only the Noldor could understand. Or maybe Findekano was the only one who knew the answer. 

“I've been asked the same question many times,” he said slowly. “The difference is that the others already knew the reason, they just couldn't believe it. He is my best friend. After all the time we had together... I just couldn't let it go. Do you have friends?”

Nkechi didn't know what to say. Her maids had always been there for her, but it wasn't really their choice whether to stay by her side or not. She never really thought about it before. The king brought twenty captive girls to look after his daughter, and they had to do it well or else. They had never challenged her unlike Firinn, but was it out of love or fear – she would never know now. But one thing was clear. All her life Nkechi spent surrounded by people who had no other choice. 

“I'm not sure,” she said. “I used to have someone, but they are all gone. I miss them, but I guess, I will let it go eventually.”

“Who were they?” 

Nkechi didn't see his face, but his voice was tense.

“My maids,” she said finally. 

He didn't say anything, but Nkechi could easily guess what he was thinking about. Findekano was considering the new information she gave him about herself. Wondering what her role could have possibly been. He didn't know the whole story, but Nkechi felt now that she didn't know it either. Her side of things suddenly seemed so narrow. The creature in the dark was right. Nkechi was just a careless little princess who sang and danced and played silly games all day long, because she had nothing better to do. It was an unpleasant thought. 

“You promised I could make for myself a new home here,” she said quickly. “I'd love that.”

“That depends on you, Miriel,” Findekano gave her a weak smile. “That depends on you.”

***** 

Tyelkormo didn't have a way with words. He preferred a simple take it or leave it approach, and it worked. Mostly. And when it didn't, he would go on a long field trip and let the predicament die its natural death. That worked every time. While Elves did have an exceptionally good ability to remember even the pettiest things, their attention seemed to wander off pretty easily, news went out of date as soon as they left the oven, and almost any accident could become totally irrelevant by the next breakfast. Tyelkormo knew that the fall of eternal darkness wasn't one of those accidents. Therefore he spent most of the morning looking for words. Another Feanorian family crisis seemed to be over, and now it was time to go and bring Nkechi back home. 

“I'm coming with you,” a dark figure appeared at the barn's door, and Tyelkormo, having almost finished saddling his horse, quietly mentioned Varda's tits. 

“What for?” he asked, swiftly checking all the belts and buckles, more out of habit than necessity.

“I need to see her again,” Maitimo came closer, stepping softly like a cat. His agility kept improving, and Tyelkormo made a silent note of his progress. One more thing he just kept doing, even though there was absolutely no need.

“What for?” 

“Do I have to explain myself?”

“No, but let's take a moment and look at it.” Maitimo came so close, that Tyelkormo had to raise his head. “She fainted as soon as she saw you. I love you, brother, but is it really a good idea to pay her a visit? Why don't you start with a letter and see how it goes?”

“She fainted, because I touched her with osanwe,” said Maitimo. “I won't do that again.” 

For a moment, Tyelkormo didn't know what to say.

“She is a girl, Maitimo, what were you thinking about? I know, you carry a lot on your shoulders, but why don't you share it with someone who won't collapse under the weight.”

“I've made a mistake,” said Maitimo, “but you can't leave me at home like a punished child.”

There was something new in his eyes, or maybe it was something long forgotten, Tyelkormo couldn't tell. It was difficult to get used to the thought that his eldest brother would never become his old self, that he needed to be looked after, his tall scrawny body occupied by an unnaturally timid soul. Tyelkormo got over it with time, and their reverted roles now became so ingrained into his mind that he could hardly imagine things being different. Tyelkormo felt as if he suddenly woke up. Was he actually looking after Maitimo? Or was he simply preventing Maitimo from getting in the way? 

“I'll get you a horse,” he said. “Let's get out of here before Curvo hears about it.”


End file.
